


i hope this comes back to haunt you

by tangerineisms (netflixing)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, F/M, Inspired By Tumblr, Stiles is a demon, dark!stiles, lydia and stiles are both in their twenties, lydia isnt supernatural, stiles is in love with lydia, void stiles (somewhat)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 04:25:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13628547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/netflixing/pseuds/tangerineisms
Summary: what if the demon in your closet had a not-so secret crush on you?-a somewhat modern retelling of the hades and persephone myth





	1. don't you ever tame your demons

**Author's Note:**

> title comes from the neck deep song
> 
> i wrote this instead of doing an assignment oops! But this won't be 100% accurate to the myth so don't attack me in the comments over it, i mainly just used it as inspiration/aesthetic 
> 
> also somewhat inspired by a tumblr post/writers block exercise

It was well past the witching hour of the night, a typical scene in apartment 27a. Lydia Martin holding a cold coffee in her hand as she goes over her student's paper for what seems like the millionth time. Being a teaching assistant wasn't the highlight of her year, but it helped her get into her dream Ph.D. program and she certainly wasn't complaining.

But, when one has to read a paper with the words "like" used over twenty times, and no citations or references, they can hit a bit of breaking point. Blowing a breath out her cheeks, she underlines the colloquialisms in her favourite red pen, tucking the paper under her arm before shoving her feet into her flip-flops and padding over to her kitchenette.

The apartment was small, sure, but it was enough for her and her Pekingese, who was spoiled rotten as if it was a baby. She got it mainly for the location, it sat in the downtown core, above a hipster-like coffee shop that served dreamy almond milk iced lattes and fresh scones. When she moved in, she placed everything just as she imagined it, it was perfect.

She opens the fridge, leaning into the freezer section and pulling out a pint of frozen yogurt, sticking a spoon into it while it sat and defrosted. The diet didn't count on weekends, and alcohol doesn't have calories on a Saturday night - _right ?_ She pulled herself up onto the countertop with ease, plucking out the pencil that currently sat in her bun.

Flipping to the next page of the paper, the grandfather clock struck three, its choral notes echoing through the hollow space of the hallway.  
_**"**_ God! How can someone just bullshit their way through almost two years of a degree! ** _"_** She exclaims frustratedly to no one in particular.

**_"_** You'd be surprised what people get away with, ever heard of OJ Simpson? ** _"_** a voice responded back, a deep undertone, something devious and dark.

A _voice_... In her _hallway_... at _3 am_. Her heartbeat quickened, was it an intruder? Or was she slowly getting sick from all the sleep deprivation and it was her brain's sign of a slow hemorrhage? Either way, her fight or flight kicked in and she reached her arm for the knife block, pulling out a simple chef's knife.

**_"_** Love what you did with the place by the way, the other owners were so boring, no posters, not even pictures! ** _"_** It spoke again, seemingly getting closer. She could even hear it's footsteps, heavy and dragging like it was scuffling their shoes together.

She slid off the counter, silently mouthing a string of f-words as her feet hit the linoleum with a slapping sound. She was _definitely_ dead now.

**_"_** Get out of my house! I've got a knife and I'll scream so my neighbors can hear! ** _"_** Her manicured fingers tightened around the handle, stepping behind the wooden kitchen rack. Maybe not the _best_ thing to say to a potential burgular, but they don't teach you this in history lectures.

_**"**_ Miss Lydia Martin, you're a feisty one- _aren't you_? A _won't go quietly_ type? You're the type of girl that's in my five-year plan. ** _"_** It was even trying to be charismatic, to be _charming_. Lydia had read too many serial killer Wikia articles at night to know exactly what he was planning to do.

**_"_** What the **_fuck_**? What kind of psychopath says that? Who are you? Why are you here? ** _"_** Her voice was growing louder, syllables trembling. Her eyes were red-rimmed from not blinking consistently, her gaze locked onto her hallway.

And then,  
All at once it emerged from the shadows of the hallway, followed by a trail of smoke. It took on the form of a twenty-something unworldly gorgeous male, dark hair impeccably styled and soft.

Eyes that surely didn't have anything behind them, focused on her, a dark colour.

Retinas that weren't fully black, but a sinister colour.

His eyelids were a smattering of red blood veins and purple and black blooms of bruises, almost as if he punched himself in the eyes, or as if someone else did.

And he was wearing a suit, a flat black dress shirt. no tie. 

Crackling his knuckles with a satisfying sound, the sides of his mouth pull up into a grin, laughing to himself.

**_"_** See, this is _exactly_ what I expected, what I planned for. I **really** like you Lydia, which is why this **perfect**. ** _"_** Smoke tumbled from his lips in plumes, reminiscent from the blue caterpillar from _Alice in Wonderland_.

He paused to cough twice, touching a fist to his chest as he did so, blood dried fingers tucking into palm. ** _"_** Sorry, so _ungentlemanlike_ of me, you'd think **Mama** would've raised me better right? ** _"_**

She stood in place, frozen, her brain screaming at her muscles to run, to move, to push him over and jump out the window, to do _anything_ , but she just stood.

He walked to her, maintaining that uncomfortable distance that made her very skin crawl.

  
_**"**_ What.. _ **"** _ she sputtered out, her own chest heaving with breaths that struggled to come. _**"**_ What _**are**_ you? _ **"**_

Another wicked smile, and an extended hand

_**"**_ Mieczyslaw Stilinski, **shadow demon** , at your service my love. ** _"_** He rasped the last word, tinting it with something she didn't understand.

_**"**_ You were supposed to die today, in fact, if we're getting into specifics, _I_ was supposed to be the one to kill you, but my committee petition went through with the Big Guy downstairs, and well, there's a plan B _ **"**_

  
Dark eyes searching her face and seeing her mixture of shock and fear, he retracted the hand, shoving it into the inner pocket of the blazer.

  
_**"**_ Ha! I'm just shitting you, Lucifer didn't _actually_ view my petition, he's on vacation, he has higher people who view that. But don't get me wrong baby, I still have my share of awards back home, I'm quite popular, so you can say you've got yourself one **_Hell_** of a catch _ **"**_

And he **_winks_**


	2. but always keep them on a leash

When she opens her eyes, she’s in her bed, duvet pulled up over her bare legs and all. Which was odd, considering she never remembered going to bed. 

It must have all just been a bad dream, she chalked it up to that weird Thai food she had with her hallmates the other day. They had all cuddled onto her large couch and binge watched the newest season of Shameless. 

With a quiet sigh, she swung herself out of bed, discarding the bobby pins from her hair in the bathroom and going through her morning routine. She didn’t have any classes through theweekend so she usually spent her free time cuddled up with a book or two she’d been itching to read or if she was feeling adventurous she’d walk out to the local park or even to the bar for a vodka soda. She shook her head, it was too early to be thinking about alcohol yet. 

She yawns, gathering her hair into a proper bun as she pads into the kitchen. Throwing some kind of caramel coffee pod into the Keurig, and gathering what she needed in the fridge to make herself an omelet. She bent over to the cabinets, pulling out a striped mug. 

“You didn’t even say good morning to me, how _**rude**_.” 

She drops the mug with a squeak and it immediately shatters into a million and two pieces on the tile floor. She can hear the melamine crack under boots as he strides across the kitchen with as much pride and grace as a prize winning chicken at a county fair. The side of his dress pants just barely grazes the back of her thighs as he passes and she visibly shudders.

She presses her fingers to her temples, willing herself to wake up from whatever coma she must have been in, anything that would stop her from the realization that a 6 foot whatever tall man (or at least it took on the form of a man), now perched upon her kitchen island, again surrounded by a cloud of smoke. 

“Why...god..why are you still here? I don’t recall drawing a pentagram to summon you or sacrificing a lamb here. And I’m definitely _not _a Satanist. So do I have to go buy some fucking sage or something to rid my poor home of you?”__

__“Are you entirely sure about that Lydia? What did your mother say about being polite to your houseguests hm?” He tilts his head back with a restrained laugh, breaking to cough._ _

__“You’re going to set off my goddamn smoke alarm and then my landlord will think I’m crazy and call my mother and I’ll probably end up in some padded ward because I’m obviously going through a psychotic break.” She’s pacing the length of the kitchen furiously, reasoning to herself._ _

__From his spot on the barstool opposite the sinks, he squints to read the various things she had pinned up to her fridge._ _

__“Ah, faculty formal is coming up, that should be a riot, shouldn’t you have a date by now? Picked a dress yet baby? You know, I Iook just dreadful next to any shade of green so I’d suggest passing there. Perhaps a nice shade of red? But black is traditional.”_ _

__With a shit eating grin he outstretches his large muscular forearms in front of him to rest on the counter, suddenly becoming engrossed in examining his dark wrists. It was as if he was wearing elbow length black gloves, but the black tapering off and fading towards the end of where a normal blue or purple vein would end.(that is, if he had any such thing as veins.)_ _

__It reminded her of when she did wax hands as a kid in art class and how when you’d dip your hand in the cold bucket, the wax would freeze in the droplets it formed upon her skin. He bends his fingers, pressing index finger to thumb, and so on._ _

__“So , am I the only person that can see you here or what?” Her voice wavered slightly, but Lydia Martin was not one to cower or to be stepped over like some doormat, no ma’am, and this intruder from whatever circle of hell would be no different._ _

__“You’re the only one that can see me like this, yes. But if we were to leave this place, most people would see me like any other human male.” The space between his dark eyebrows furrowed as he spoke, his nose upturning slightly, almost as if the word “human” alone had a negative connotation to it and left a bad taste in his mouth._ _

__“I didn’t want to get exorcised or anything, it’s a dreadful experience ten out of ten would not recommend, so a host was the next best option. So this fine lad came about, although I’m still getting used to this form, you dumb asses are so interesting right?.” He strolls right past her to inspect the contents of her pantry, settling on a bag of nacho chips contentedly._ _

__“And yes,” he turned and dramatically rolled his eyes “Lydia, I can feel and hear everything that a normal human can, including anything behind doors,” he offers a seductive waggle of a brow, and she involuntarily gags._ _

__“Definitely did not want that image in my head, was not asking about that at all, nope, nada but o-kay, we are moving on from that topic.” she sighed, her eyes still wild with the realization that there was a real life demon in her apartment._ _

__She was taught in catholic school to view demons as ugly, and fowl creatures something that would crawl out from under your bed and grab your toes as a child. But nothing could have prepared her for something like this._ _

__She huffs, freeing her hair from her bun, shaking it out as she flips her head over, running her fingers through the gentle strawberry curls. When she tilts herself back to standing, his bottom lip is captured under his teeth, his eyes squinting for understanding._ _

__“Why do you do that?” He prompts, his eyes watching the details of her actions._ _

__“Hm?” She’s searching for her broom now, it would be just her luck to step on all the broken mug pieces and tear her feet to shreds._ _

__“You do a lot of little unnecessary actions all the time, I’ve noticed, it takes up a lot of your time.”_ _

__From the cleaning closet, she pokes her head out with as serious of a scowl as she could muster “How long exactly have you been watching me for anyways?”_ _

__“Since you’ve moved in, you really like it here don’t you?” His tone of voice is so casual it’s as if someone had asked him about the weather for next week._ _

__Her breath hitches in her throat, if she was drinking that coffee right now, this would be now when she’d choke. She moved in here at the tail end of her last year of undergrad, which had to be at least almost two and a half years ago._ _

__(Granted, a lot of significant others had moved in and out, and she’d spent a few twenty-something life crises at 2am obsessively ordering things from the Crate and Barrel online catalog and then crying when she didn’t know where she was going to put it all.) What could she say? She was a perfectionist at best._ _

__“Number one, why the fuck were you watching me all this time?” She grasps the swiffer and chucks it towards him angrily . “Number two what the fuck did you see? And number three I’m going to need you to get the fuck out of here!”_ _

__He chuckles lowly, hands catching the handle in a reaction that was almost to quick to be real, snapping it easily across the top of his thigh and tossing the two halves in the pile of broken mug pieces._ _

__“Now now my darling, let’s be civil shall we? Calm yourself, have a seat, take some deep breaths, that’s it.. If we return to our initial conversation we had yesterday, well, that is, before you just passed the hell out, you were supposed to die, I was assigned to you, I got my clause passed, yada yada boring boring let’s skip to the good parts.”_ _

__She felt like the apartment itself was suddenly spinning, she vaguely remembered something about death.  
“Wh-“ she begins but can’t finish the inquiry. _ _

__“Yes , Lydia you were supposed to die, don’t ask why because I don’t even know myself.” He’s talking to her slowly, enunciating every syllable as if she was a child._ _

__He’s sputtering out smoke again and she narrows her eyes at how it dissipates around him. “God, sorry about that, it annoys me as much as it does you.” He shrugs, continuing on. “As I was saying, you aren’t going to die after all! Yay!” He adds in poorly placed jazz hands, cracking another odd grin._ _

__“What’s the catch then?” Her arms are strictly folded across her chest and she tilts her head in waiting for an answer from him._ _

__“It’s really simple I swear, you just sign some things here and dot your i’s cross your t’s, all that stuff.”_ _

__“Cut to the chase Miez..fuck it whatever your name is!”_ _

__He tuts, grinning again “Such vile language for a pretty girl. Anyways, basically the express version is you get to live here on earth doing your thing in exchange that you marry me within a traditional bond, essentially I get to keep your soul, and we're blood bound together as internal partners but tomato tomahto am I right?”_ _

__Lydia really hopes she isn’t going to pass out again._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow look at me finally updating after -500 years.
> 
> anyways this isn't beta'd so please excuse any mistakes in the writing. 
> 
> if stiles seems a little ooc, pls be patient my loves i'm working on it i swear
> 
> please leave comments and kudos or both! (they make my day every day! )


End file.
